


What Megatron Wants …

by aellisif



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Breeding Kink, Consensual, Established Relationship, I want to say this has a plot but honestly I’m not sure, Light Dom/sub, Mech Preg (Transformers), Other, Sexual Roleplay, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, unwanted childlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aellisif/pseuds/aellisif
Summary: Megatron wants sparklings.Megatron wants Optimus’ sparklings.What Megatron wants, Megatron gets. And if he has to tie Optimus to the berth for it, well, so be it!… actually Optimus asked for it.
Relationships: Jazz/Soundwave (Transformers), Megatron/Optimus Prime, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 137





	What Megatron Wants …

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [What You Can't Have](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161978) by [lord_squiggletits (megatrons_mouth_laser)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megatrons_mouth_laser/pseuds/lord_squiggletits). 



“Yes, Prime, yes, yessss -”

Air escaped Megatron’s vents in a hiss as he slammed himself back down on Optimus’ spike and shuddered, optics bright.

It twitched. His closed mask stifled the moan, but Megatron heard it nevertheless and smirked, all of his fangs showing. “Yes, you are going to overload, Prime, aren’t you? You’re going to overload right into me, fill me up and make a sparkling in me -”

He interrupted himself to rise up and slam back down, then worked his calipers, and Optimus almost choked as his spike throbbed. Megatron moaned, helm thrown back. “Yes, Prime, that’s it! Come on, give it to me, make me a big, strong sparkling!”

Suddenly he leant forward and his face came close enough for Optimus to feel the hot vents on his face. “Nobody will make a better sparkling for me than you, Optimus,” he purred. “You have to see that, don’t you? Your CNA and mine, they will be perfect, wonderful, indestructible, invincible! So play nice and just let me have your transfluid already!”

Optimus shook his helm, tugged weakly at the bonds keeping him tied to the berth and wondered, with the part of his processor that wasn’t moaning in delight at how Megatron was squeezing his calipers around him just how exactly he had ended up in this situation.

* * *

“Sparklings?” Optimus placed his cube on the table and looked at Megatron, trying to conceal his surprise. By now he was used to Megatron bringing up strange topics in all kinds of inappropriate settings and situations, but so far, the topic of sparklings had never been broached, much less while they were labouring over a set of suggestions about how bots wrongfully imprisoned under the Functionists could be compensated.

It was really not a combination of topics Optimus particularly enjoyed. He was struggling as it was, and had just taken a sip of energon to calm himself down. At least Megatron and he were pretty much on the same page in this regard – they both wanted those bots to be compensated, the struggle was to keep the compensation realistic.

Megatron was staring at a datapad, expression grim. It was very at odds with his words. “Yes, sparklings. Have you never thought about having one? Or a few?”

“I – no.” When was he supposed to have considered having a sparkling? More importantly, though, when had Megatron found the time to consider having a sparkling? “You have?”

Megatron looked even more grim. “Yes.”

“Ah.”

Optimus was at a loss for words. Megatron stared at him, that unnerving, red gaze. “Do you want one?”

“Do you?” he returned, and while Megatron usually snapped when he did that, this time he simply looked back down at his datapad and said, “Yes.”

Oh.

Well, apparently Optimus would have to do some spark-searching once they were done here. Whatever this – thing was he and Megatron had had going for a while now, that thing they both avoided talking about as much as they could so they would not have to face the question of whether they were in a relationship, if Megatron wanted sparklings and Optimus did not, it would not be fair on him to let it develop into a proper relationship.

He turned his optics back to his own datapad and, to his surprise, Megatron did not press him. It only strengthened Optimus’ resolve. He had never spent a thought to becoming a parent, but the war was over and bots all around them were happily hooking up, so maybe it was time to at least start processing the possibility of having a sparkling at some point in the future.

Because surely Megatron didn’t mean they should start trying for one tonight, right?

* * *

The pressure on his spike increased as Megatron tightened his calipers around him more and more, and Optimus started panting himself, small puffs coming from his smokestacks.

“Megatron!” he moaned from behind his mask and bucked up slightly, pressure and charge stimulating his spike almost unbearably. Megatron smirked down at him and gently traced his wrists where they were bound to the berth.

“I have waited a long, long time to see you like this, Optimus,” he purred, optics blazing in triumph. “Tied to my berth, mine to take, mine to enjoy at my leisure. I wonder, what about you? Have you been waiting for this a long time as well? Have you dreamt about fragging me, filling me up, making me round with sparkling?”

Optimus shuddered violently. Megatron’s calipers started _rippling_ around him, oh, frag it, he loved that, oh – oh -

His optics sparked as he arched and overloaded straight into Megatron’s valve. The red optics blazed in triumph again at the flood of transfluid, which the valve immediately pumped into the gestation chamber.

“Very good, Optimus. Give it to me, every single drop you have.” Megatron sat still and waited while Optimus came down, vents hissing with steam, fans roaring. “A good start, but I’m sure you have more to give me. Don’t you?”

Optimus’ spike immediately twitched.

* * *

Maybe Optimus would not have made up his processor quite as soon if Soundwave had not suddenly shown every symptom of carrying in the book. The sudden heatwaves, the sparking joints, the intense exhaustion.

Quite probably, he would not have made up his processor if he hadn’t also watched Megatron turn into the most protective helicopter-friend he had ever seen. He was constantly around Soundwave, and Optimus’ spark gave pangs of jealousy at how stupidly devoted he was.

Just as he was starting to morosely think that Megatron’s wish for sparklings would be taken care of without Optimus’ involvement, Jazz asked him for a private conversation and confessed, clearly uncomfortable, to being the cause for Soundwave’s state.

“We, uhm, we didn’t plan on taking it that way,” he said, avoiding Optimus’ gaze. “We were just having a bit of fun, and things got out of servo.”

That was quite obvious. What was also obvious, however, was that Soundwave was looking forward to being a creator, and even if Jazz did not want a steady relationship with him, he was too much of a gentlemech to walk out on his sparkling.

So Soundwave carried to term and Optimus watched Megatron cradle the newly emerged Whisper and beam, and realised with a pang that yes, he did kind of want that. He was less certain that he was going to make a good creator, but he did suddenly know that he would at least like to try.

And he wanted to try with Megatron.

A few days later, he therefore asked Megatron if he would like to make their – whatever-it-was, official. If he was going to have a sparkling, he wanted them to emerge into a stable, long-term relationship.

Megatron was clearly startled.

He was also clearly pleased, and proceeded to demonstrate just how pleased he was with an enthusiasm that had Optimus wondering whether they might end up with a sparkling sooner rather than later.

* * *

Megatron smirked and slowly started moving again. “I knew you’d have a good stamina, Optimus. I’m very pleased with you.”

Optimus rolled his optics and Megatron stopped for a moment, then adjusted himself and started moving up and down on Optimus again. “Well, if you don’t want to continue, you just need to say so, Prime.”

A servo slid from his wrist to his servo and Optimus grasped it, weaving digits together for a nano-klik before letting himself go limp once more. “And you would have me believe you would actually stop?” he said, trying to sound as arch as he could with his vocaliser still full of static. Megatron grinned.

“No. We are not getting out of here until I have got what I want. But surely the Prime of all Cybertron is fertile enough to get a sparkling on me? Hmm? Are you, Prime?”

He slammed down and Optimus groaned, tugging at his bonds once more. If only he could free his wrists …

Megatron picked up the pace again and Optimus, having overloaded just moments ago, could do nothing but watch as Megatron drove himself to overload atop him, his own charge rising once more at the view.

Megatron’s overload was a sight to behold, and Optimus involuntarily bucked up into him, wanting to prolong it, draw it out, just to get to see Megatron like this for a little longer.

Megatron shuddered, optics bright, and brought a servo up to gently rub over his mask. “Now, Prime, I think we are acquainted enough with each other that there’s no need for modesty any longer. Open up and kiss me.”

* * *

Optimus could tell already by the dejection in the EM field. He wanted to get up and comfort Megatron as best he could, but he knew by now that that would only make it worse. Even with Optimus, Megatron did not like to show when he was hurting, and this was a terribly touchy subject anyway.

“He is old, you are old, Optimus,” Ratchet said a few hours later when Optimus had sought him out for the umpteenth time to ask if anything could be done. “What do you want me to do? Put you both in a different frame? That might increase your chances of kindling a little, but it’s really not worth it.”

Optimus sighed and stared at the wall. Ratchet sighed as well. “Why don’t you try the other way around? Perhaps it will be easier for you to kindle.”

“Megatron wants to carry,” Optimus replied, all-too aware of his partner’s wishes. Ratchet snorted.

“Well, if he absolutely insists. Don’t know why, it’s not all fun and crystal flowers, you know?”

Optimus did know, but who was he to tell Megatron to bury that wish? He had some notion of why exactly Megatron was so pit-bent on being the carrier, but he also knew that prying would only tear open old wounds.

Ratchet stopped doing whatever it was he was doing and put a servo on Optimus’ pauldron. “Perhaps the two of you should try to take it easy for a while. Are you even still enjoying interfacing or are you only doing it so he’ll kindle?”

Optimus considered the question. “… I don’t know. I enjoy it. I think he does, too.”

Ratchet shrugged. “Perhaps ask him about that, at least? The more pressure he puts on himself, the less likely it is that he’ll kindle.”

Optimus sighed again. “I will.”

* * *

Warm, soft, gentle. A thread popped up that whoever met Megatron would never guess the mech could kiss like this. Optimus bucked up into him again, moan getting lost in Megatron’s mouth. A glossa teased his and he answered without thinking, random bucks turning into a rhythm. Megatron let him, held his frame still but continued kissing him and Optimus moaned once more. Rough was simply not quite his thing. Not in general. Nice enough as a change of pace, but -

Overload hit him as Megatron started thrusting his glossa into his mouth and Optimus’ valve, ignored, throbbed at the suggestive motion.

Megatron purred in satisfaction as he was filled once more and drew the kiss out as Optimus shuddered beneath him. “Very good, Prime. I think you deserve a little reward. What would you like me to do?”

“Valve,” Optimus gasped out before he could process, and Megatron smirked.

“Ah, of course. Well, let’s see if we can do something about that …”

He sat up swiftly, then managed, somehow, to turn around on top of Optimus without ever lifting off of his spike. Digits found his exposed valve and Megatron started caressing it, then thrust one digit inside.

Optimus yelped and pushed down as much as he could with Megatron sitting heavy on his pelvic span. A dark chuckle came from the mech atop him. “Optimus, Optimus, what a nice surprise! It’s really a shame that there is no room today for a good spiking for you. I’ll make sure to rectify that though once you have kindled me. Does that sound like a deal?”

Two digits. Optimus let his optics shutter and moaned, bucking up and tugging on his bonds. If Megatron continued with this, he was going to overload again, and quite soon.

* * *

“No sparkling in sight yet?”

Optimus immediately tensed at the false sincerity in Starscream’s voice and reached out under the table to grasp Megatron’s servo. Ratchet turned around and scowled at Starscream. “What business of yours is it?”

Starscream smirked, arms crossed. “I am simply a concerned citizen, Ratchet, who wonders, just like everyone else, when Prime and Megatron are finally going to kindle. It’s not for lack of trying, that’s for sure, so we have to ask ourselves if maybe Primus himself is throwing a bar into the wheels?”

“No,” Optimus said, glaring at Starscream even harder than Megatron was. “Primus has nothing to do with this.”

Starscream shrugged, showing off a few too many denta. “Perhaps then we will have to blame it on Megatron’s skills in berth? Although how he can fail now is utterly beyond me, when he has spent so many vorn practising by himself.”

Optimus spat static, his optics flying to Megatron involuntarily. He was baring his denta now as well, every cable in his frame tense. “Shut up!”

Starscream glared back. “No, I don’t think I will. Tell me, Megatron, have you told dear Optimus just how long you have been fantasising about carrying his sparkling? I can remember, you know. All those times I could hear you through the walls, pretending you had our dear Prime tied to your berth and at your mercy -”

Ratchet slapped Starscream across the face before Optimus even realised he had moved. He was positively quivering with rage. “He told you to shut up, so shut up! Megatron’s fantasies are none of your business, and neither is it your business to tell Optimus about them!”

Starscream threw back his helm and laughed. “Oh, but I think it is, medic!” he cackled. “You see, my hypothesis is that our dear ex-warlord won’t kindle because having Prime willing just does not do it for him!”

“That’s enough!” Optimus was on his pedes immediately, barely refraining from lunging at Starscream. “Get out of here, Starscream!”

Other customers were taking note of what was happening in their hidden little booth, and Starscream flicked his wings in triumph, smirked at Optimus one more time and sauntered away.

Optimus wanted to wring his neck. Ratchet was also still glowering as he sat back down and pulled Optimus with him. “Vicious little fragger,” he hissed. “Don’t listen to him, Optimus. Whether a bot kindles has nothing to do with their partner’s willingness, more’s the pity.”

“I know.” Optimus turned to Megatron. “Are you -”

Megatron was not looking at him. His field was drawn in tight, so close that Optimus couldn’t feel it despite sitting close enough to touch him.

“Megatron?” he said carefully and was distantly aware that Ratchet was looking between them with sudden realisation.

Megatron stood, still not looking at him. “I’m going home.”

Ratchet’s comm stopped Optimus from trying to hold him back, and they watched in silence as Megatron left the café, transformed and flew off.

Ratchet cleared his intake. “I wish I could say I’m surprised.”

Optimus stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Ratchet waved a servo around. “Alright, the part about Megatron wanting you to spark him up already during the war was a surprise. Megatron wanting you in his berth during the war? Please, Optimus, you must have known.”

He did. He had. But so had he. Otherwise he would never have agreed when Megatron suddenly, out of the blue, offered fun with no strings attached after a particularly exhausting meeting. One time had turned into two, three, that “thing” they had never talked about, until Optimus had figured out he wanted a sparkling, and he wanted it with Megatron, and simply asked if the “thing” could become permanent.

Ratchet tilted his helm to the side and smirked. “You know, why don’t you follow him and talk it out?”

“Talk what out?” Optimus managed and Ratchet grew serious.

“I thought Megatron wanting your sparkling was a post-war development, but apparently, it’s not. He’s been thinking about this for a long, long time, and even now that you are happy to take part, he cannot seem to kindle. And didn’t you tell me that when he first asked you about whether you wanted a sparkling, you didn’t have an answer for him?”

Optimus gave a nod. Ratchet smiled. “Have you ever told Megatron that you really want a sparkling, too?”

Optimus felt his vocaliser fill with static. “I didn’t want to put more pressure on him.”

Ratchet hummed. “There are some mechs whose systems are so sensitive that they can only kindle when they are absolutely, 100% sure that their partner wants a sparkling, too.”

“Oh,” Optimus said, catching on to what Ratchet was implying. “Do you think – do you think he is afraid I only said yes because he wants it so much?”

“You fought each other for a long time, and for a long time, your consent would not have mattered to him,” Ratchet said matter-of-factly. “And now it does.”

“Oh,” Optimus said again, tactical unit coming online. “I think I may know what to do in this case.”

* * *

Megatron started rippling his calipers around his spike again, added a third digit and Optimus overloaded so hard sparks flew from his frame. Somewhere in the midst of his high, he heard Megatron yelling, calipers tightening to the point of almost-pain, but he felt too good overall to really consider it uncomfortable.

Megatron swayed on top of him, then fell backwards, hitting Optimus’ chest with a clang. Optimus tugged at the bonds again, then remembered the right command and wrapped his arms around his spent partner as soon as he was free, affection threatening to overwhelm him. Convincing Megatron had taken some doing; to begin with, he had reminded Optimus, face carefully blank, of their initial agreement that no restraints of whatever kind were to be used in their encounters. In the end, what had done it was Optimus telling Megatron that he wanted to see it – wanted to see for himself how Megatron had brought himself off thinking of Optimus during the war.

He did not have any particular fancy for being tied up, but all things considered, it had been worth it. Letting Megatron take charge was something he always enjoyed, and while Optimus did not enjoy being objectified, all of those gentle gestures, the way Megatron had kissed him while at the same time utterly unaware of how telling these touches were – warmth and a thrill of pleasure ran through him.

If this was what it was like when he let Megatron tie him to the berth, Optimus would not object to ending up in the same situation again.

Megatron sighed in content. “Optimus,” he mumbled, pushing himself up to turn around and kiss him again, even more gently than before. Optimus let his servos glide over the smooth, hot metal, then pulled Megatron against him hard. He was rewarded with a full-frame shudder and red optics unshuttering and looking at him, emotions plain and bare. Megatron did not say anything, but he kissed Optimus’ face, his cheeks, his finials, his forehelm, and Optimus smiled, tired, sated and happy.

“I love you too.”

* * *

“- and if you come here, you can see – WHAT THE FRAG, MEGATRON?” Prowl yelped, jumping aside and evading the shower of sparks raining down on him.

Everyone in the meeting room froze and stared at Megatron. He stood as still as any of them, just by Prowl’s side, sparks of electricity flickering underneath his armour.

Optimus suddenly felt weak in the knee-joints. There was no way, however, that he would let Megatron face this alone, so he determinedly locked them and stalked rather than walked over to his partner, extending a servo. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly and Megatron responded with static, red optics wide.

“We should go see Ratchet,” Optimus decided, putting the servo in the small of Megatron’s back and gently pushing him towards the door. “Please continue, we won’t be long.”

Jazz, grinning broadly, muttered something as he moved out of their way, which Optimus chose to ignore because it contained the words “not if you’ll be celebrating the good news”.

Primus, he _hoped_ they would be good news and not just a glitch or malfunction.

* * *

“Kindled. Two newsparks,” Ratchet said and turned the screen around for Optimus and Megatron to see.

He was met with two identical expressions of frozen shock and had to bite down hard on his glossa to stop himself from laughing. He was happy for them, more than he could express, but their faces were worth a fortune. Not that he couldn’t sympathise with their shock; they had, after all, been trying to kindle for ages now.

Megatron in particular was looking as if someone had just dropped another house on him. Optimus recovered faster. “Are you sure?” he said, and Ratchet’s spark would have broken if he hadn’t been able to tell Optimus, “100% certain, Optimus. You’d best start getting ready, your two little blobs of joy will be emerging in six weeks.”

Megatron made a choked little sound, his optics going even wider as he stared at the screen in disbelief. Optimus turned back to him and squeezed his servos. “Megatron? Dear-spark?”

Oh, good Primus. Ratchet did not know whether he had wanted to know that they actually had pet-names for each other.

Megatron finally said something. “But – how?”

Ratchet shared a concerned look with Optimus. “You probably know better than me. I wasn’t there.”

“But we haven’t interfaced since you suggested we -” Megatron suddenly broke off, a wave of embarrassment from his field nicely coinciding with a typical carrier heatwave. Optimus, too, suddenly emanated slight embarrassment and cleared his intake.

“Well -”

Ratchet looked between them, recalled his last conversation with Optimus about their marital issues and was suddenly quite sure how these two particular newsparks had been kindled, and just what their creators had been up to at the time.

Well, he had to give it to Optimus: His unorthodox solution had apparently worked famously.

Gasping with laughter, he gestured Megatron to the berth to run the other necessary checks. “Look on the bright side, you two: At least when the day inevitably comes, you’ll have a good story to tell your sparklings!”

Megatron favoured him with a glare. “That information,” he said as regally as he could under the circumstances, “you had better take to your grave.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been mulling that idea over for quite some time now, but I think the final push to write it came from “inspired by”, because I really liked the way how Megatron would, even in his fantasy, make a point of Optimus wanting it. (By the way, @lord_squiggletits, please let me know if you prefer me not to link to your fic and I’ll remove the link.)  
> Although again, I have to add that it took a very different turn when I actually wrote it than I had planned; originally Ratchet was supposed to suggest that they spice up their sex life, then Megatron has this grand idea of putting his fantasies into action and Optimus is kind of swept along with it. I think I like how it turned out now better, though.  
> Well, nothing doing. If you like, let me know you enjoyed and please also let me know if you think I should add other warning tags :-)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [… Megatron gets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584890) by [aellisif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aellisif/pseuds/aellisif)




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